Love Cauldrons
by Princess Persephone
Summary: One badly brewed love potion coupled with an anonymous gift of Chocolate Cauldrons leads to events Lily Evans never expected to occur.
1. An Anonymous Gift

Author's Note: Yes, this story involves a love potion. No, it is not a poorly carried out Marauder's prank; the instigator is someone else. There was some confusion. Enjoy!

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Love Cauldrons – Chapter One – An Anonymous Gift

Lily Evans plopped herself down at the Gryffindor table, a sigh escaping her lips. She was exhausted, and scowled in response to her friend Vivian's "good morning." It was a horrible morning as far as Lily was concerned. Grabbing the pitcher of pumpkin juice from a startled-looking second year, she didn't even feel an ounce of guilt.

Why should she, Lily mused to herself grumpily as the second year quickly scurried away from his seat at the force of Lily's glare. She was Head Girl. She had enough problems without worrying about being polite to some stupid second year. Like doing that double translation project for Ancient Runes, and finishing her potions essay, which was supposed to be 20 inches long (she didn't know what game Slughorn was playing, but she didn't like it)…and, of course, there was always the prefects' meeting to plan for tomorrow. Groaning, Lily stuffed her mouth with cold toast, and then promptly spat it back out.

"What's with you?" Vivian asked. She sat across from Lily and wrinkled her nose at the sight of the half-chewed piece of toast on Lily's plate.

"Nothing," Lily snapped. "I'm fine."

"Be careful, Lily's in one of her moods," a girl named Alice said, sitting down next to Vivian. She was smiling.

"I don't have 'moods'," Lily protested, scowling at the food on the table. Why was it that Hogwarts never had anything remotely edible for breakfast? And why were her two best friends always so cheerful? They should be sympathetic to her plight. They should be real friends and moan and groan and agree with her. Not tease her about 'moods'.

"Calm down, cranky-pants," Alice said, taking the pitcher of pumpkin juice. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." She and Vivian exchanged smirks.

"No I didn't," Lily said. "And I'm not cranky."

"Of course you're not," Vivian said at once. She turned to Alice. "Lily has to plan a prefects' meeting with you-know-who."

Vivian was not referring, as one might suspect, to You-Know-Who, the Dark Lord of the Wizarding World, who, as it happened, hadn't actually risen to full power yet, but to a different dark-haired boy. One who wore glasses, had messy hair, and was a mastermind at pranking unsuspecting people. One who was a prodigy at Transfiguration and seemingly never had to study for anything even though he was at the top of his class. One who had girls falling over his feet left and right. One boy who went by the name of James Potter.

"Ah, give it up, Lily. You've barely talked to him all year—it's not his fault he's Head Boy," Alice said.

Lily merely grunted in response. She was tired. Her vivid green eyes were rather dull; in fact, there were large purple smudges underneath them, shouting to anyone near enough to hear that Lily had gotten only four hours of sleep the night before. She'd stayed up nearly all night to make sure the arrangements for today's Hogsmeade trip, the first of the year, were all taken care of. She didn't need her best friends to start up on how 'Potter wasn't that bad'. It was the very last thing she needed.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade?" Vivian asked, thinking a change in subject was needed.

"Yes," Alice answered. She beamed. "Frank's meeting me there. I haven't seen him since the beginning of August." Alice had been going out with Frank Longbottom the year before, and the relationship was still going strong. The only problem was that Frank had graduated and was now entering the Auror program at the Ministry. Alice planned to join him there at the end of the year, but the long-distance relationship was hard on both of them.

"Where are you meeting?"

"The Three Broomsticks. When I told him a Hogsmeade trip was coming up he took off this weekend to see me." Alice smiled into her porridge. Lily couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Alice was nice and smart and pretty and had a boyfriend who loved her. It was difficult not to want that too.

"What about you, Lil?" Vivian asked, finishing her eggs and kippers. "Are you going?"

"No," Lily replied flatly. She hated feeling jealous of her friends. "I haven't got time."

Alice and Vivian exchanged glances, but before either could say a word, a flurry of owls flew into the Great Hall with the morning post. Dipping over tables, multitudes of multi-colored owls landed and delivered letters, newspapers, and packages. Vivian hurriedly paid her owl and commenced to read _Witch Weekly_. Alice scanned the ceiling, but no large tawny owl greeted her.

"No mail," Alice said sadly. "I was sure Mum would have written back by now."

Just then a black owl landed between the three friends, carrying what looked like a small box of sweets.

"I think it's for you, Lily," Alice said. "Look, here's a note."

Lily eyed the owl warily. She'd been pranked before by those awful boys—_Marauders_, they called themselves—and she'd grown to distrust strange mail. However, she read the letter anyway, trying to ignore the unnerving stare of the owl.

_Dear Contestant, we are pleased to inform you _. . .

"Apparently I've won a free sample of Honeyduke's Chocolate Cauldrons," she said. Alice and Vivian looked heartened. "It says I was the thousandth customer on the tenth of June." Lily looked amused. "Want some?"

Vivian shook her head. "No, I'm too full for sweets."

Alice, who was allergic to chocolate, also shook her head. She peered at the box. "Aren't those filled with firewhiskey?"

The three girls scanned the box, confirming Alice's suspicions.

"That's a bit of a prize, for a thousandth customer: firewhiskey's strong stuff—"

"Oh, please," Lily cut her off. "I'm eighteen—legal in the wizarding _and _the Muggle world. They probably knew that and picked something special. And besides, a pick me up is just what I need today."

She grinned. She could have kissed the salesperson who'd sent this to her. Chocolate! Chocolate was just what she needed. She'd never really had a love of chocolate cauldrons (one required a certain taste for firewhiskey, it was true) but just then she didn't care. It was free, wasn't it? And it would make her feel better. Unwrapping the box and popping off the lid, Lily quickly grabbed a chocolate cauldron and shoved it, whole, into her mouth.

Sighing, she chewed happily. Chocolate would get her through the day. It would get her through the Head meeting with Potter, where they had to plan the prefects' meeting for tomorrow. Urgh, she needed all the chocolate she could get for that . . . Taking another cauldron, Lily propped her head up with her hand, elbow on the table, and looked down the table to the Marauders. Potter was sitting in the middle, laughing at something Remus had said. Yes, she needed all the chocolate she could get when it came to James Potter, be it at a Heads' meeting, in class, or even sitting at the same breakfast table.

Lily took another cauldron, licking the filling out first and then eating the chocolate, feeling it melt in her mouth. James Potter . . . Lily felt her stomach flip over, as if she'd just swerved on a broomstick. All the girls in her year thought he was handsome and smart. His hazel eyes could do things to a girl, it was true (though Lily would be the last to admit it) . . . and that smile . . .

Lily took another cauldron. Down the table, James ran a hand through his hair and Lily wasn't the least bit annoyed. In fact, (as she ate another cauldron) she watched, fascinated, as his hair took on a wind-blown appearance, as if he'd just gotten off a broom. She suddenly wished she was the one running her hands through his hair. He was smiling again and Lily felt her mouth drop open. A strange, warm feeling was spreading through her, making her stomach feel bubbly and her head full of soft, low lights. It felt like she'd just chugged five bottles of butterbeer. James smiled again and Lily blinked as astonishment rolled over her like a wave. He was so handsome it made her bones ache. She wished he was smiling at her with that toothy grin. She wished he was sitting next to her.

With that thought in mind, Lily ate another cauldron from the box and watched James eating his toast. Why wasn't he sitting next to her? Why wasn't she sitting next to him? She wanted to hear his voice. She wanted to hold his hand. She wanted to make him laugh and just gaze at him all day long. It wouldn't be very hard to gaze at James all day long; he was so interesting sometimes she couldn't even sleep at night for thinking of him. His room _was_ right next to hers, after all. It was impossible to stop thinking about him, night or day. He was everywhere. In all her classes, in the Head Common Room, on the Quidditch field, in the library, at the Gryffindor table . . . In fact, she took all the closeness as a sign. Why else would their lives be so entwined if they weren't meant for each other? Lily knew she was meant for him.

Lily felt the warmth inside her increase as she thought these things and couldn't help but want it to fill up her like a balloon. In fact, it _was_ filling her up like a balloon. She was as light as air! She was bubbly and happy and in love!

In love!

James frowned at something one of his friends said and Lily felt her heart almost burst. Even when he frowned he was beautiful! Oh, she loved him! She did! 

Suddenly, James glanced up, as though he felt he was being watched. His head swiveled around and then his eyes locked on hers and Lily almost fainted when she saw him grin. Her mouth was dry, but she smiled back anyway. Was anyone in the world as lucky as she was? James Potter was smiling at her! The way his eyes crinkled up and his mouth opened, the way his teeth glinted in the light, the way she felt he was smiling for her, just for her, made her sigh with happiness. Then he stood up and started walking down the table towards her. Lily almost choked with happiness. He was walking to her!

The warmth enveloped her whole body and all she could think about was him. The rest of the Great Hall was blocked out. She didn't hear anything but the beating of her heart. She couldn't think about anything but him. How handsome he was, how smart, how kind, how wonderful, how brave, how good, how . . . how . . .

Trembling, Lily nervously popped another chocolate cauldron into her mouth. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. He walked so gracefully, his steps even, his robe billowing out behind him.

And he was walking to her!

Her heart fluttered with anticipation. What would he do when he reached her? What would she do? She had to make him love her, she just had to. Her heart screamed it. But what to do?

Lily couldn't think. She couldn't think about anything but him; about James.

James! Even his name was wonderful! It was perfect. She could say it all day. The way she had to pucker her lips in order to say the 'J'; the way it rolled off her tongue! Was there any better name in existence? James! James, James, James, James, James!

Alice and Vivian, who were finished with breakfast, had been poring over a quiz in _Witch Weekly_ (Which Flavor of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans Are You?) and consequently had missed all of Lily's strange behavior. They had missed the way she'd eaten almost all the chocolate cauldrons, and the way she'd been leaning on her elbow, gazing across the room. They'd missed all the sighs that passed her lips, and how she sat up suddenly, furiously running her hands through her hair in an attempt to tame it, as if to impress someone. They'd even missed the fact that she'd undone the top three buttons of her blouse. They only realized something peculiar was going on when suddenly James Potter was sitting next to their friend and Lily wasn't snidely telling him to leave.

In fact, Lily was gazing at him as if he was a tall, dark, handsome stranger.

In truth, James Potter was tall, dark, and—one couldn't deny it—handsome; but neither girl had ever heard Lily say so, or had ever gotten the impression that their friend even _thought_ so. And he wasn't a stranger at all; they'd known him for six years.

"When do you want to plan the prefects' meeting?" James asked. He eyed the half-chewed toast on Lily's plate, but then ignored it with a shrug and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice, leaning over her in order to do so.

His arm brushed her shoulder.

Lily merely let out a strangled noise.

"Because I don't want it to be long, I've got other things to do today." James smiled at her and Lily smiled back, a dreamy look in her eyes. When had she ever looked at him like that? James noticed there was chocolate on the corner of her mouth.

"You've got something just there," he said, touching a corner of his mouth. Lily's eyes followed his finger and her lips parted, as if in surprise. "Is it chocolate?" he asked. He looked bewilderedly at Alice and Vivian. They gave him puzzled looks.

"Just where?" Lily asked breathlessly.

James pointed to her mouth.

Lily smiled and stuck out her tongue, licking the bit of chocolate that had escaped her mouth. Then, her gaze locked on James, she reached for the last cauldron and popped it into her mouth. The flavor spread and Lily's eyes brightened and her cheeks flushed. She couldn't help but notice James' eyes watching her lips. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine. She felt his gaze on her all the way to her toes.

"So, er…" James dragged his eyes up from her mouth. Hazel locked on green and James cleared his throat. "So, when's the meeting?"

"I don't know," Lily answered, again, breathlessly.

Alice and Vivian gave each other confused looks.

"Are you feeling alright, Lily?" Vivian asked.

Lily appeared not to have heard her. Her eyes were still locked with James'. She wanted him to smile at her again. She wanted him to reach over and grasp her hand. She wanted to reach over and grasp _his _hand. She wanted to run her hands through his wonderful, thick, dark hair and bring his face closer to hers. She wanted to hold him in her arms and tell him how much she loved him. She wanted to . . .

The rest of the Marauders wandered over, having finished with their breakfasts. Remus was impatient to leave, but Sirius and Peter were content to view the unfolding scene. Sirius had watched James walk over to the Head Girl and had smirked with rugged good-looking anticipation of an oncoming row. A James and Lily love/hate fest was always worth watching. They hadn't had a good row since the first day, when Lily had discovered James had miraculously been named Head Boy. She'd gone out of her way to avoid him ever since, sitting on the other side of the room during the classes they shared, shutting herself up in the library, or in her room. Sirius was certain there had to be a row brewing—life wouldn't be complete without it.

"Lily-love, I'm afraid we'll have to steal James away from you," Sirius said. "We have business to attend to, you know. Hogsmeade and all that."

James stood up, ready to leave, gulping the last of his pumpkin juice. Lily stood up too, her eyes fixed on James. But before she could open her mouth, James beat her to the punch.

"Look, just tell me when you want to have the meeting," he said. Glancing at Sirius he smirked. "Unless you want to have it in Hogsmeade?" He grinned toothily at her, a well-known look lighting his eyes. "Want to go out with me to Hogsmeade, Lily?" The earnestness of his heart and importance of the question to him were both masked by the 'I-have-nothing-better-to-do-and-don't-really-care-about-your-answer-because-I'm-so-freaking-handsome-and-popular smirk that it had taken him a year to develop when asking Lily Evans out. She sure knew how to reject a guy.

In fact, everyone present at the time fully expected to hear the same answer Lily always gave. She'd come up with several varied and creative ways of refusing. There was always the straight out and out 'No!'; the softly spoken 'Not again!'; the angry 'Go away'; the scathing 'Eat dung'; the annoyed 'Don't you remember my last answer?'; and of course the favorite of her two friends, the 'I'd rather go out with the giant squid!'. Once in sixth year he'd caught her under the mistletoe and tried to convince her that it was illegal to walk away without kissing, but Lily had just vanished the mistletoe and walked away smirking. When she ignored his query it tended to make matters worse. James seemed to think that no answer was equivalent to 'yes.' (She had discovered this delusion of his in fourth year, when, after ignoring his question, James had told everyone in their year how she was his girlfriend and was going to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day with him. A well delivered hex on her part had cleared him of any such thoughts ever since.)

In fact, as James uttered those words about Hogsmeade, Lily's friends and the Marauders were all slightly bored. Peter was even cleaning his fingernails, which still had frog guts under them from his detention the previous night.

So everyone, including James, was rather shocked when Lily opened her mouth and delivered a breathless answer.

"Yes."


	2. The Date in Hogsmeade

Love Cauldrons – Chapter Two – The Date in Hogsmeade

A shocked silence met Lily's answer. The entire group stared at Lily, who was in turn staring at James, looking extremely pleased with herself. Her smile was nearly breaking her face in half.

"W—what—" James sputtered, blinking rapidly. His face was pale and blank of all emotion.

"What did she say?" Peter asked, his hand falling to his side, fingernails forgotten. He turned to James. "Did she really just—"

"_What_ did you say?" Sirius asked. He sat down heavily in the seat that had been vacated by James. His usual smirk was gone. He stared at Lily as if he'd never looked at her properly before.

"Lily, are you sure you're feeling alright?" Vivian asked. She and Alice stood up. "Sit down and eat something healthy—those chocolates have addled your brain!"

"Is this a joke?" Remus demanded. The shock of her answer nearly took three years off his life—in fact, given his usual worn-out look, Remus looked nearly twenty-five.

Lily ignored them all—or perhaps honestly didn't hear them. She was still staring expectantly at James. He took half a step towards her.

"What did you say?" he whispered. The well-trained mask was gone, and the blatant hope on his face was bare for all to see.

Lily smiled brilliantly, her green eyes glowing. "I said, 'Yes'. I'd like to go with you to Hogsmeade, James." When she said his name, the dreamy expression on her face seemed to grow even dreamier.

This brought about another shocked silence, during which Alice and Vivian gave each other worried looks and the Marauders all froze again.

James was gasping, and he couldn't seem to tear his gaze from the girl in front of him. He thought he'd imagined it; sure his ears were playing tricks on him. But it was true. She'd said yes. Lily Evans had said yes. To him. She actually wanted to go out with him. His mind was having too much trouble getting around it for him to actually say anything.

"Are you sure you mean it?" Alice asked tentatively.

Lily glanced distractedly at her friend. "Of course I mean it," she snapped. As if she'd ever make it up—of _course_ she wanted to go to Hogsmeade with James. Why, she'd always wanted to!

"I would never lie to James!" Lily exclaimed.

Vivian blinked. "You told him yesterday you'd meet him after lunch in the Heads' Common Room, and he spent hours waiting for you when you spent the afternoon with us—in the West Tower!" she scoffed flatly, folding her arms. "You lie to him all the time!"

Alice was bewildered. "Just how much firewhiskey was in those cauldrons?" she asked to no one in particular.

Lily scowled at them. How dare they spew such slanders! "I do not lie to him all the time! I forgot yesterday, that's all. I completely forgot." She turned to James, and her whole body seemed to melt a little. "I did, I'm so sorry." Oh, Merlin, Lily thought, would he forgive her? He needed to—she loved him! He had to forgive her; what would she do if he didn't? He'd walk away and she'd never see him again. She'd wither away and die if he left! She couldn't bear to lose him! Her heart nearly broke at the thought.

For a second Vivian thought for she spied a glimmer of tears in Lily's eyes. But that was absurd—it must be the light playing tricks with her eyes—Lily _never_ cried . . .

"Quick, what day is today?" Sirius asked suddenly.

"The fourteenth of October," Remus responded at once. "Why?"

"Because this day must go down in history," Sirius said, smiling finally. He seemed to have gotten over the shock. "It's the day that Lily finally said 'yes' to James—it should be made a national holiday! The press will love it; the public will love it! People will flock to Hogsmeade and eat food in memory of the glorious occasion, like—er—the chocolate Lily had for breakfast—and the pumpkin juice James drank—and everyone will ask us about what happened—and we'll get all the girls we want!"

Vivian gave Sirius a scathing look. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Be serious for once."

Sirius leaned against the table and tossed his hair out of his eyes in a way that told anyone watching just how handsome he knew he was. "But I'm always Sirius." He winked at her. "Seriously." (Or perhaps he meant that he was always 'serious, Siriusly', one never knew with Sirius Black: he was only serious half the time, but completely Sirius all the time . . . or, well . . . you get the idea.)

However, this comment—whatever it's meaning—did not even receive the customary groan that usually accompanied it. Remus was too busy looking haggard and perplexed; Peter was biting his fingernails in anxiety over the scene enfolding before him (he'd never thought he'd see the day when Lily would finally say yes: in the pool they had going around the school, he'd placed ten gallons on "Never" . . . it was just his luck—and he'd also conveniently forgotten about the frog guts under his nails); Sirius was too busy grinning at James; Vivian was glaring at Sirius for not being serious enough (though he was being Sirius enough, perhaps even a little too much) about the situation; Alice was peering with consternation at the empty Chocolate Cauldrons box; and Lily and James were too busy staring at each other.

In fact, James' mind finally got around the word Lily had uttered, enough to make a decision.

"Right," he said. "Well, then, let's go."

And with that, he grabbed Lily's hand and led her to the entrance of the Great Hall (at a bit of a run, lest Lily change her mind before they left the school), where the queue for students going to Hogsmeade had started.

Lily was much too overwhelmed by the feel of her hand in his to notice the stares some of their classmates were sending their way. (It was a well-known fact that Evans hated the very sight of Potter and couldn't even stand to be in the same room with him, much less hold his hand.) In fact, Lily barely knew where she was; she was too involved in thinking about the fact that James was standing next to her.

And holding her hand.

Lily brushed her thumb across the back of his hand and he squeezed her hand in response, but didn't look at her. She noticed that his cheeks had turned a faint pink. Pink. It was such a lovely color on him. She wanted him to always look like that, blushing. Blushing because of her. The thought of James blushing set Lily to blushing—although on her, instead of turning a faint pinkish color, her whole face burned scarlet, which unfortunately clashed horribly with her hair.

However, James didn't notice. He was too conscious of the stares they were starting to receive. It was a little uncomfortable, and he didn't meet anyone's eyes, but he didn't want to stop holding her hand.

Merlin! He'd waited years for this! He wasn't about to let some stupid third years' giggles or fourth years' blatant stares bother him. He was holding Lily Evans' hand! And she'd agreed to go on a date with him. To Hogsmeade. He just wished the line would hurry up so they could catch a carriage.

"Where do you want to go?" he murmured softly, breathing in the pleasant fragrance of her hair.

"Go?" Lily murmured back, swaying against him.

"In Hogsmeade. The Three Br—no . . . ah . . ." James didn't want to go there; it was too crowded with other students, ". . . er . . . Madame Puddifoot's?" Girls liked to go there, right? He hoped so. All his energy over the last few years had been put into wrestling a 'yes' out of her; he hadn't had time to actually plan out their date. He'd spent too many sleepless nights wondering if she'd ever smile at him, much less agree to go on a date with him. And though he'd hoped, he'd never really expected her say yes.

"I don't care," Lily said. "Wherever you think is best."

Shortly thereafter, after a scowling Filch checked their names off of the list, James and Lily bounded into a carriage and thus started the drive to Hogsmeade; one that James had never thought he'd take with Lily.

Lily was similarly discomposed: she was with James Potter. In a carriage.

Completely alone.

It was almost too much to take in. They sat side by side, her hand still in his, but neither could think of anything to say. Lily could barely articulate an understandable word in her own head, much less say anything out loud. She was too busy staring at James' profile to think straight.

Up close he looked even better than he did far away. His hair was still unbearably untidy, though Lily didn't mind a jolt. His eyebrows were straight and dark, the cut off for his bangs. The ear she could see—pale and round and perfect—was slightly hidden in his longish hair, which also curled against the nape of his neck. That neck . . . Lily felt a sudden urge to lean over and press her lips against it, at that spot between his hair and his collar, but she managed to restrain herself . . . barely. However, in the midst of the war raging within herself, she became distracted by his nose and completely forgot about kissing his neck. His nose was strong but not too prominent, and it had the cutest little indent between his eyes for the middle of his glasses to rest on. Lily had never really thought about glasses as being very interesting before, but now she found herself fascinated by them. The eyes behind the glasses however . . . deep hazel: brown in the center fading into green around the edge, flecks of pure gold in between, all melded together, hot and captivating and beautiful . . . the most beautiful color Lily had ever seen . . .

And then those eyes were looking straight at her. Lily almost forgot to breathe.

"We're here," James said.

She couldn't bring herself to look away from his face—which hindered getting out of the carriage considerably, but she managed with James' help, every part of her that he touched tingling deliciously. As soon as they set off down the road, Lily captured one of his hands in hers.

"So . . . er, where to?" James asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

"I don't care," Lily replied, too interested in the way they walked in unison to notice he was nervous.

After a moment James said, "Listen, it's my dad's birthday in a week. I was going to go to Gladrags to buy him something." He glanced at her. "Think you'd mind if . . ."

"Not at all." He was going to buy his father a birthday present! How sweet . . . James thought of everything . . .

And so the two headed down the street to Gladrags Wizardwear, a posh-looking building between Zonko's and Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. It was a large building, full of clothes, and smelled faintly of pine cleaner. Lily had never been inside before, but nothing could distract her from the boy at her side who, unfortunately, removed his hand from hers the moment they entered.

James headed over to a section on the left under the sign 'Wizard Accessories'. Lily joined him at the counter, determined to help him find the perfect gift.

"I was thinking a tie would be good," he murmured to her, running his eyes over the vast selection in front of him.

There were ties of every sort imaginable: stripes and whirls and dots and squiggles; patterns of Quidditch items, gardening tools, even ties that looked and felt like real animal skin. Some had stain detectors, others were trick ties and would slip out of their pins and smack you in the face when you least expected it, or if you said something stupid. Long, short, extra short, fat or skinny, plain or with a pattern, noise-making, special effects, color-changing . . .

"Erm . . . which do you think?" James asked Lily weakly. He'd known this was a bad idea. What idiot takes a girl to a clothing shop to buy a tie for his dad? Lame, lame, lame. On their first date? On their _only_ date if he kept taking her to places like this . . .

"What does your dad like?" she murmured back, scanning the ties. James shivered at the feel of her breath on his neck.

"Well—" He turned only to find her face inches from his. James swallowed audibly, trying very hard not to let his eyes slip down to her lips (which he couldn't help but notice were slightly parted). She smiled at him and he felt something in his stomach flip over and his heart suddenly beat into overdrive. How he'd longed to see that soft look in her eyes, directed at him for once. A look that wasn't annoyed or angry or scathing . . . but sweet and real and trusting. Her eyes were brilliantly green, sparkling at him from underneath long dark lashes, and there was a look in them he'd never seen before, something magnetic and powerful that was making him forget where he was and what he was doing; something that made him only aware that her face was right there and her lips were so close and he was about to kiss Lily Evans, the girl he'd wanted for so long . . .

"Sir, can I help you?"

James wrenched his face away from Lily's just as her eyes fluttered closed. He felt his face burn as he turned to the salesperson who had spoken, a portly little man with a shimmering red and blue tie, who was obviously trying very hard not to let his mirth at the situation escape him, though James thought he could have tried a little harder, especially when the man gave him a little wink and cleared his throat meaningfully before gesturing to the ties.

Trying to act nonchalantly, James peered at the tie display, but was distracted by a sudden movement he felt, more than saw, to his left. From the corner of his eye, James saw someone, a girl, staring at them. Staring at Lily, really, a look of dismay and alarm on her face. A feeling of dread ran through him and he stifled a groan. Of course, the one person to see them had to be her: Nina Lynch.

James' ex-girlfriend.

Maybe she'll just go away, he thought desperately. Please, just let her go away. He didn't want Nina to say anything to Lily that would put her off him—or, off him more than usual. It had been a bad break up, you see. Very bad.

James surveyed the ties unseeingly until he heard the bell on the door tinkle as she left the store. Only then did he finally breathe and actually listen to what the salesman was saying.

It took Lily a long moment to realize James wasn't going to kiss her. Face still upturned, she opened her eyes to see the back of his head as he bent over the counter, talking to the salesman. The bubbly feeling inside her that had prompted the almost-kiss deflated a little. Why hadn't he kissed her? she wondered. Had she not been obvious enough? Did he not know—? Oh! Or worse! Did he not _want_ to kiss her?

Lily started in horror.

Had he turned away from her in disgust? Was he even now laughing at her in his head? Lily frowned. He better not be, she thought. Why wouldn't he want to kiss her? Was she not kissable enough for him? Well James Potter didn't know anything! She was definitely kissable enough; she'd saved herself for him. She loved him! Was it unrequited? Did he not love her? Lily thought she'd just die if he didn't. She didn't know how she'd survive without—

"Thanks," James said tightly to the salesman, who gave him another wink. He turned to Lily, took her hand and they started from the store.

Oh. Maybe it wasn't hopeless, Lily thought, heartened at the feeling of her hand in his.

"Sorry that took so long," James said. "I didn't know what to get." He grinned sheepishly at her.

Lily thought he was adorable. She smiled back, her knees going weak from the effect of his smile. In fact, she nearly tripped over a loose pavement stone, and would have fallen flat on her face, if it hadn't been for James' Quidditch-honed reflexes.

"Whoa," he said, helping her straighten up, his hands lingering on the small of her back and her arm. He quickly dropped his hands and looked at the store in front of them.

"Fancy a sweet or two?" he asked.

They were outside Honeydukes. Lily nodded absentmindedly and they headed inside. The shop was warm and crowded—per usual. James scanned the shelves of sweets. On second thought, perhaps it had been a mistake to come here, too. He wasn't really in the mood for candy, no matter how many different types of chocolate Mr. Flume—the owner—decided to sell. He certainly didn't think the Peppermint Toads would help his already butterfly-filled stomach. And the place was teeming with Hogwarts students, many of whom had noted their entrance, nudged their friends and started whispering speculatively, wondering just why the Head Boy and Girl were in the same store on the same day and were seemingly together. James tried his best to ignore them.

Glancing over at Lily, he saw her peering questioningly at the box of exploding bonbons.

"Do they really explode?" she asked, glancing back at him.

James picked one up gingerly. "Yeah. But if you're careful there's nothing really to worry about. The older the bonbon, though, the more of a bang—"

Just as he said this, the bonbon exploded in his hand with a rather exuberant "BANG!", showering them—and a few disgruntled Hufflepuffs nearby—with chocolate, nougat, and bits of other candy.

James grimaced, throwing Mr. Flume an apologetic look. But when he caught Lily giggling at him, her face flushed, he grinned good naturedly and tried to brush bits of left over bonbon off his robes.

"'Nothing to worry about'?" Lily asked, raising an eyebrow. She inched away from the bonbon box. "I don't trust those things."

"They usually get sold before they age too much . . ." he insisted, beckoning her to come back.

Lily laughed, shaking her head. "I don't want something to explode on me."

James stepped toward her, grinning, and caught her by the arm, playfully pulling her back.

"They're really good, come on, I'll buy you a bag."

"Wait," Lily said. They paused. She reached up and brushed some chocolate flakes and coconut shavings from his hair. "You've got something just there . . ." Half of a strawberry mousse Chocoball was on his shoulder. She picked it up and stuck it in her mouth. James stared at her, his throat going dry.

"They're my favourite," she whispered, licking her lips.

"I'll be sure to get you some," he answered hoarsely. But his gaze was pulled to her soft-looking pink mouth, which looked very kissable at the moment . . . very kissable indeed . . .

"Lily!" a voice called.

The pair looked up to see Alice pushing her way through the crowd, a happy-looking Frank Longbottom trailing after her.

"I didn't know you two were coming here today," Alice said. She looked furtively at Lily. "You should join us at the Three Broomsticks." She seemed to think this would mean something to Lily, but whatever the meaning was, it was lost on James. "Frank and I were just going to go and get a butterbeer."

"Er . . ." James looked back at Lily, whose lips still looked very kissable . . .

"Lily," Alice said a little impatiently, trying to get her attention. Lily, however, was too busy wondering if James tasted anything like a strawberry mousse Chocoball.

She bet he tasted better.

"Wait," Frank said, looking between the two of them. "Are you two . . . Alice, you didn't tell me they were going out!" He grinned and thumped James on the back. "Good for you! And you said Lily would never say yes!"

James smiled, but looked at Lily for her reaction. He was surprised (but pleased) when she grinned and linked her arm with his. His stomach flipped over, relishing the feel of her standing to close.

"Well," Alice said tentatively, "she didn't exactly say yes."

The other three stared at her.

James felt something inside his chest tighten. "What do you mean she didn't 'exactly' say yes?" he asked after a moment. "Lily said yes—I heard her say it—and so did you."

Alice ignored him and looked at Lily. She took a deep breath. "Lily, I think there was something wrong with those Chocolate Cauldrons," she said.

There was a strained pause.

"What Chocolate Cauldrons?" Frank asked.

"What are you talking about?" James demanded.

Lily stared at Alice. What did she mean? And why was she bringing this up now? Couldn't Alice see that she was on a date with James Potter, the love of her life? He might never ask her out again, thanks to Alice accosting them in the middle of the candy shop.

"There was nothing wrong with those Chocolate Cauldrons," Lily answered her friend, ignoring the two boys.

"I think there was," Alice replied huffily, ignoring the two boys as well. "I read that note; there wasn't even a signature. And I just asked Mr. Flume and he said they've never had a contest for the hundredth customer in April or whatever—"

"It was for being the thousandth customer last June tenth, thank you very much," Lily replied waspishly. That just showed what Alice knew. Lily stuck her chin out. "You're just jealous you couldn't have any because you're allergic to chocolate."

"That's absurd!" Alice exclaimed.

"You're allergic to chocolate?" James asked, horrified.

Alice ignored him. "I think there was more than firewhiskey in that candy."

"You had firewhiskey for breakfast?" Frank asked, slightly awed. He'd been trying to get a bottle at the pub in London for months and had yet to get one.

"How would you know?" Lily asked Alice. "_You've_ never had firewhiskey." She glared at her supposed 'best friend'. What was Alice playing at? Why had she interrupted them? James had just been about to kiss her, she knew it. "This is pointless," she said, fuming. Her body tingled with something she'd never felt before. Something dangerous. Her eyes glowed and her hair shone and her grip on James' arm was starting to hurt him. "I don't know why you followed us here. James and I are having a lovely date and you're just trying to ruin it. You just want to lord it over me that you have a boyfriend and I don't. You always said I was right in saying no to him. Well, has it crossed your mind that maybe I changed my mind?" Her voice was rising in volume. "I said yes! I did. Maybe I really do like him! Maybe I don't need you to tell me what to do! Maybe you should just sod off because it isn't any of your damn business!"

The shop was silent, everyone staring at them.

Alice didn't make a sound, merely turned around and ran out of the store. Frank gave Lily a venomous what-the-hell-is-your-problem look and raced after his girlfriend.


	3. The Ride Home

Author's Note: Mature themes.

Love Cauldrons – Chapter Three – A Carriage Ride Home

James took Lily by the arm and hustled her into a corner, trying to block their conversation from the view of the other customers; all of whom were trying very hard to eavesdrop. Some were doing so inconspicuously: leaning on counters, tilting their heads casually towards the corner the couple occupied, sidling up to the sweets nearest them. Others were more blatant in their determination to overhear. James even spotted one small third year drop onto all fours and crawl toward them against the wall. However, with one well-placed glare from James, the boy scrambled up and ran back to his friends, trying to pretend the Head Boy hadn't just glared at him with eyes promising the ultimate pranking of his short thirteen-year-old life.

"Lily, that wasn't a very nice thing to say," he admonished.

"I don't care," she said flippantly. "It's none of Alice's business what we do on our date."

"Well, maybe. But she was just trying to help . . ." He didn't feel so sure about that. Alice sure hadn't been trying to help _him_. "She seemed to think—"

"She's just upset," Lily interrupted quickly. "I didn't tell her I was going to go out with you. Before I said yes. She thinks she's entitled to know everything about me; my every action concerning you." She frowned. "She doesn't know anything."

James sighed, still a little shaken by Lily's row with her best friend. He'd never seen her yell like that at anyone except him. Actually, he'd never seen her act like that at all—including with him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Lily was acting a little strange . . .

"You should still apologize."

Lily looked repentant. "I will," she nodded. "If you want me to."

A little baffled by this statement, James replied, "I think you should . . ."

"Okay." Then Lily shot him a disarming smile. "Aren't you going to buy me some sweets?"

Satisfied, James took her hand and led her to the shelf they had been standing by previously. Over a conversation about preferences for chocolate (Lily liked flavored, be it white, raspberry, orange, or mint; James favored Honeydukes' special Dark Cocoa-Nut Chocolate Bars), James filled a bag of candy for Lily, making sure to include a few Fizzing Whizbees (his personal favorite), a handful of sugar quills (come to think of it, he could use a few of those for himself, too), a few pink blocks of coconut ice (secretly, Sirius raved about these), and a bunch of those strawberry mousse Chocoballs that Lily liked so much. After paying (two Galleons, eight Sickles, twenty-three Knuts), they left the shop and headed down the lane.

James looked at the sky. "It looks like it's going to rain," he said, pointing out the dark clouds overhead. Purple and grey gathered ominously, threatening a very soon downpour. They'd be lucky to avoid it. Peering at his watch, James raised his eyebrows. He hadn't realized it was so late. They should head back to the castle soon for supper.

Lily shivered in the autumn chill. Neither of them had cloaks, just their normal school robes.

Noticing this, James said, "Listen, why don't you go get a carriage and I'll stop in at the Three Broomsticks real quick and grab a couple of butterbeers." She nodded in response.

A few moments later they were both snug in the carriage as it made the long drive back up to the castle. And just in time too: the rain started to fall in sheets as they passed the last building in the village. It tinned on the roof and ran down the windows, but both passengers were safe and dry.

Lily felt extremely warm and happy sitting next to James in the carriage. Their combined body heat warmed the carriage interior even as the cold rain poured down outside. Her entire right half tingled where his body pressed into her. It was very pleasant, sitting like that . . . but Lily, deep down, wanted more. And she was suddenly very cognizant of the fact that they were alone together. Again.

Her body temperature rose a few degrees just at the thought.

Nervously chugging her butterbeer (which didn't help how hot she suddenly felt—in fact, Lily felt so warm that she struggled out of her black robe, tossing it onto the opposite seat), Lily wondered what she should do. Her whole being buzzed with awareness, shouting at her to _do _something. James was right there. Sitting next to her. She peeked at him from below her eyelashes and watched his throat work as he swallowed some butterbeer. Her mouth went dry. He had such a beautiful throat. He had a beautiful everything. She had to make the most of this opportunity.

Lily felt James shift beside her. His handsome face was very serious-looking (_not_ Sirius-looking, though) and he seemed to be making up his mind about something.

"Lily," he began. "I—"

"James," she said quickly, cutting him off. The words were bursting to come out of her; just looking at him sent her heart racing and words bubbling out of her lips. "I just want to say—" she licked her lips nervously and turned slightly so that she faced him fully, "—I just want to say that I'm very glad you asked me out today. I've had a really good time."

There was a slight pause. He'd obviously not been expecting her to say that.

"I'm very glad you said yes," he answered quietly, looking straight into her eyes. Those eyes . . . they were the most captivating, mystifying things he'd ever seen. Their brilliant green color seemed to glow brighter at his words.

"Are you?" Lily asked breathlessly. He saw her eyes flicker down to his mouth.

The atmosphere changed.

"I am."

James swallowed hard, aware of every point at which they touched, aware of every breath he took, of every movement she made. Lily inched closer, leaning toward him. James couldn't resist. His heart was pounding in his ears, hoping against hope . . . Was this the moment? Was she going to let him . . . ?

His butterbeer bottle lying forgotten on the floor (spilling a great deal onto his new shoes), his hands rose and cupped her cheeks tenderly before he angled his head and softly brushed his mouth against hers.

He felt her gasp against his lips and couldn't help wanting to gasp himself. Her lips were better than he'd ever dreamed: soft and pink and warm. The lips he'd fantasized about for hours, be it in his bed or daydreaming in History of Magic. He kissed her reverently, as if she'd shatter or disappear; as if he was in a dream. He kissed her the way every girl imagines her fist kiss with someone special: slow and sweet and perfect. After a time, James broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against her, trying to remember how to breathe.

Lily's mind was in a daze. Her lips tingled from his kiss and her head buzzed pleasantly. James had just kissed her. She felt like an exploding bonbon had gone off somewhere inside her: her cheeks were flushed, her breathing labored, her skin on fire, her stomach flipping nonstop. Warmth trailed through her body, focusing itself in her stomach—no, lower than that . . . The bubbly feeling was racing out of control, expanding, choking her with happiness.

She'd been right; he _had_ tasted better than a strawberry mousse Chocoball.

She wondered if he wanted to kiss her again. She wondered if James had imagined kissing her before now. She wondered . . . She couldn't think! Her mind could only focus on the fact that James had just kissed her . . . and had kissed her so well . . . Something inside her urged her on, telling her to kiss him again . . . She _had_ to kiss him again . . .

James' forehead still leaning against hers, Lily shifted closer and met his mouth with hers again, this time harder. They kissed for a few moments, the sensations new but as dangerous and hot as fire. James reveled in the hungry way her mouth molded to his. Her body had shifted closer and he could feel one soft breast pressing insistently against his arm. Very reluctantly, James slowly broke the kiss, certain he couldn't go any farther without receiving a slap—or, more likely, a well-deserved hex—certain that if they did continue he wouldn't be able to control himself.

Through his dazzled senses he vaguely wondered why Lily had kissed him a second time, wondered where that hunger had come from . . .

As he tried to catch his breath, Lily took one of his hands and pulled it to her lips. His hand tingled and a spark of desire flared, traveling through his body to land in his groin. He looked up and his gaze met and locked with hers.

Perhaps it was the raw look in her eyes, or the fact that they were completely alone in a carriage on a _date_ that she'd willingly agreed to. Or perhaps it was the gesture, simple yet touching. Whatever it was, something inside James, something long held in check—the culmination of all the wishes and yearnings, all the unobserved gazes he'd directed her way, the way his heart burned whenever she stepped into a room—that something shattered.

All at once his arms were around her and he rained kisses on her face, her cheeks, her eyes, her neck, her throat, her shoulders: any and every patch of warm, pale skin he could reach. She drew his head up and their mouths met for the third time.

Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers sinking into his unruly hair, just as she'd dreamed of doing all day, shifting his head for a better angle, hands fisting in his locks when a pleasure-filled tingle ran up her spine. James' stomach fluttered in desire when Lily opened her mouth and lightly ran her tongue against his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and felt her tongue shyly brush against his. Groaning, James wrapped his arms around her until she was pressed flush against him, her breasts soft against his chest. Her mouth was hot and wet and better than anything he'd ever tasted—sweeter than any candy Honeydukes sold, better than the best Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean you came across in your life. His stomach clenched and rolled as she kissed him, tumbling and flipping more than it had on any broomride he'd ever been on.

It felt exhilarating.

Their kisses became more heated. When James did something absolutely delicious with his tongue, he earned a soft moan from Lily, one that made his blood race. Unthinkingly, one of his hands slowly slid down her back, until it grasped more ample flesh. Complying with his body's wishes, Lily slid more fully against him, allowing him to get a better handful of her behind. James couldn't think, was only aware of how she touched him, one hand buried in his hair, the other stroking his arm, undoing the buttons of his shirt. Panting slightly, she slid her lips down his jaw line until they met that teasing bit of skin between his ear and collar. Reason vanished and James tilted his head back, the sensation of her mouth against his skin intoxicating. Nipping him with her teeth, she elicited a breathy gasp from him.

"Lily," he moaned, his other hand traveling up between their bodies, hesitating at her chest.

"Touch me," she encouraged softly.

Taking his hand, she brought it to her breast. Lily didn't think anything had ever felt so good. James inhaled sharply, turned his head and caught her lips with his in a passionate kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth and crushing her body more fully against his. Lily was on his lap now, straddling his hips. All Lily could do was press against him.

The rest of the world faded; nothing existed, nothing mattered beyond the sheer pleasure of his touch.

Closer, she thought. More. She needed more. From the moment they'd started kissing a dull ache had begun in her stomach, spreading lower. Her body was on fire and James was the cause—no doubt he was the cause—but she knew, instinctively, that he'd be the one to bring her out of the blaze alive, too.

If only she could . . . Oh! Lily moved against him, moaning as she pressed herself—oh, right _there_—against the hard bulge in his trousers. Right there . . . she moved again. James let out a strangled cry and clutched her closer, his hips bucking in a rhythm with hers. Lily started undoing her blouse, craving his hands on her. She needed him to touch her. James' mouth was busy devouring her collar bone, hungrily sucking like he couldn't get enough of her.

"Oh James," she cried softly. "More."

She imagined his mouth on her breasts and ground her pelvis against him at the thought. Oh she wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, to stroke that ache between her legs. She wanted to strip off her damp knickers and unzip his trousers and feel his hard, hot erection against her, _inside_ her . . .

"Oh touch me!" she called. "Oh James, please!"

At the sound of her voice (and cringing from the painful pull she'd just given a handful of his hair), James seemed to come back to himself partially—at least enough to realize what they were doing, and where.

"Lily," he gasped, disoriented. "We—we've got to . . . to argh—" he broke off with a guttural groan as she licked his neck. "Lily," he tried again weakly, panting, trying to get control of himself. They were in a bleeding carriage for Merlin's sake.

But he was sidetracked when Lily captured his lips again and gave him a deep, tongue filled kiss that sent his blood pumping southward. A few hot, wet, fervent minutes later he finally wrenched his lips far enough away from hers to say hoarsely, "We've got to stop."

Lily's lips returned to his neck, obviously pretending not to have heard him. She ran a hand down his trembling body, trying to distract him, and started to stroke his incredibly hard—

_Fuck_, James thought desperately, capturing her hand and placing it back on his shoulder. If she kept that up he'd end up losing his head completely and taking her against the seat (and while this would have made a pleasant—undeniably pleasant—fantasy, James already had more romantic, better places in mind for their first time than the seat of a Hogwarts carriage; and besides that, he knew Lily wasn't that type of girl . . . in fact . . . )

In fact, what was she doing, snogging him like this in a carriage? On their first date? He'd expected—no, hoped, that maybe, if he was _extremely_ lucky, that he'd get to give her a brief kiss outside her door tonight. He'd certainly never imagined, in real life, that they'd ever do something like . . . well, like _this_ on their first date.

Pushing her away, James struggled to breathe enough to clear his mind and think.

"Lily, we're nearly to the school," he said.

She merely moaned and moved her hips in a sensual dance against his.

"No we're not," she giggled. "We've still got a _long_ way to go."

"Really," James insisted, struggling to keep her at arms length. "We've got to stop—we're in a c—_What are you doing?!_"

For Lily had successfully stripped off her blouse and was now undoing her bra.

"I can't stop," Lily moaned passionately. She looked him in the eye then, her lips appealingly red and bruised from snogging, her hair in a tumble, her eyes glazed with pleasure. She looked slightly wild sitting there on his lap, half dressed.

"I can't stop," she repeated, undoing her clasp on her bra. "I want you."

A bra strap fell off her shoulder.

"I can't keep it in—it's bursting to come out!"

The bra slipped off her arms and landed between them, white and innocent.

James swallowed. Hard.

"I love you James!"


	4. The Antidote

Love Cauldrons – Chapter Four – The Antidote

James' mouth was dry.

He knew it was wrong—somehow he just knew—but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her. Her breasts were perfect. Perfect pale globes, the nipples rosy pink. They were slightly large and James bet they'd fit in his hands perfectly. His hands itched to cup those perfect breasts, squeeze them, and bring them to his mouth. He'd claim her. He'd lick and suck until she moaned with pleasure, rocking against him, calling out his name.

And then her words—the words she'd actually just uttered—penetrated the thick fog that surrounded his brain, as if from a long distance away.

"I love you James."

His eyes whipped to her face.

"Wh—_What?!_" he sputtered, eyes wide.

This was the second time in a day that Lily had left him speechless. A record really. Before now, he'd always had a quick barb ready, a witty reply, a cheeky line for a date. She'd never surprised him before . . . at least, never so much. But just now he couldn't get his mind around the words she'd just declared.

Lily didn't seem to hear his amazed reply to her statement. She leaned forward, backing him into the corner of the carriage where the side met the seat they were on. Her breasts, those perfect soft-looking breasts, pressed against his chest and she slowly—seeming to know the effect if would have on him—undulated her hips against his raging erection. He trembled beneath her.

Capturing his hands, which had been resting lightly on her waist, she brought them up to her breasts. James gulped, eyes locked on her chest, and touched her gently. He cupped her, palming her nipples, which puckered and stood erect at his attention. She was so soft, he marveled, gently squeezing one breast and brushing his thumb against her other nipple. Lily let out a gasp and shoved herself forward, propelling her chest in the general direction of his face. James, his mind wiped blank of everything else—where they were, what she'd just said—could only see her breasts before him, begging him to . . .

And James gave himself up to the moment, weak with desire, mind buzzing with lust, his fantasies fulfilled. He brought one breast to his mouth and lightly ran his tongue over her nipple. A second later he crushed her body to his and sucked her nipple into his mouth hard, his tongue swirling around her. His hands ran down her back until they met her rounded backside and he pressed her against himself as he thrust up, the friction amazing, determined she feel how much he wanted her, crazed with lust at what she'd offered him.

Lily gripped his hair in her hands, strangled noises issuing from her throat as he sucked her deeper into his mouth. It was better than she ever could have imagined, better than any feeling she'd ever had in her life. Stars shone behind her eyes when he roughly ran his tongue over her. A lightning bolt of pleasure traveled from her breast to that sweet, awful, undeniable ache in her loins, making her groan.

"Oh, James!" she let out. "Take me—oh, please! I love you!"

But James did not respond to these words the way she thought: he did not pull back and answer her in kind, or pull her head down for a scorching kiss, or even groan appreciatively. In fact, James stopped altogether.

Her words ran like ice water over him, bringing him back to the present in a shock of perfect clarity. He pulled back from her, disgust at himself swirling in his stomach. His senses were going haywire and lust still clouded his mind, but one thought rang true though it all: this was wrong.

What they were doing was wrong. Lily wasn't herself. Those words couldn't be real. He couldn't believe he'd taken advantage of her like this. When she'd first started undoing her blouse, he'd known . . . something was very wrong . . .

Lily did not know why he'd stopped. She thought he went stone still because he was overwhelmed, panting because his heart was fit to bursting (like hers) at the realization of her love, backing away from her because he was about to utter the words she longed to hear . . .

"I love you," she repeated, whispering in his ear. How good it felt to say it! Oh, she could say it forever. Was there a better sentence in the English (or for that matter, any) language? She loved James Potter! She wanted everyone to know! She wanted to shout it from the rooftops! From the top of the tallest tower! Hear it echo in the Great Hall and sail off on the wind for others to hear, so that they'd know.

"I've always loved you!" she exclaimed happily, her lips hot against his neck. "I've loved you for _ages_."

Actually, this was blatantly untrue. Lily had only been in love with James for approximately seven hours, forty-eight minutes, and three seconds: since she'd eaten that first Chocolate Cauldron that morning at breakfast. But to Lily, however, it certainly felt like it had been forever.

She started pressing small, chaste, reverent butterfly kisses along his jaw line. Her mouth had just met his again when James shoved her—rather hard, it must be admitted—away from him.

He clenched his jaw, seething. Either Lily was out of her mind, or being unbelievably cruel. He couldn't stand another bleeding minute of it.

"I don't know what kind of joke this is," he said coldly, "but it's a bad one."

Disbelief washed over Lily, and she stared at him in shocked surprise. A joke!? How could he . . . what . . . ? She pushed him against the seat and, her hand clenching his chin, made him look at her. The wounded, frosty look in his eyes sent a shock wave of anguish through her.

"James!" she shrieked. "How could you think that?" Tears formed in her eyes and she unthinkingly pressed herself against him, her chest to his. Did he really believe it was all a joke? How? Was it so impossible for her to love him? Why, oh why did he not believe her? "How could I joke about something like this?" she asked earnestly. Did he not realize how important this was? "I love you so much it hurts inside; I ache for you."

"What are you talking about?" he asked bewilderedly, searching for her bra. If he was going to figure out what this was all about, and why she was acting so strangely, she had to be decently—or, well, at least partially—clothed.

"Oh, James," she said dreamily, wiping her tears away. "It's true. I've wanted to tell you for so long! This morning, when I saw you at breakfast, walking toward me, tossing your hair out of your gorgeous eyes: my heart melted right out of my body. I thought you'd _never_ notice me! I couldn't go on loving you in secret—I couldn't bear you not knowing—Oh James!" her expression went wild with passion as she uttered his name, "I'd do anything for you! You're so good and noble and brave and strong! How could anyone not love you? When you laugh my heart sings, when you frown I faint for wanting you to be happy again. I love you from the top of your wild-haired head to the bottom of your butterbeer-stained trainers! Oh James, tell my I don't hope in vain!"

Throughout her confession, James had been struggling to get her bra back on, but was having difficulty with the clasp. Finally the hook caught and then he started searching for her discarded blouse and black robe. What was she talking about? he thought distractedly. Love him? That _had_ been butterbeer he'd gotten at the Three Broomsticks, hadn't it? Not something stronger by mistake, like fire—

James froze, her words coming back to him. _". . . this morning . . . at breakfast . . ."_ He remembered Alice in Honeydukes . . . something about—Merlin, what had she said? _"I think there was something wrong with those Chocolate Cauldrons. . . . more than firewhiskey in that candy . . . wasn't even a signature . . ."_

His hands stopped buttoning Lily's blouse as suspicions took form in his mind. . . . But if that was true . . . his stomach dropped at the thought. It couldn't be, could it? That would mean . . .

Just then, the carriage stopped.

In a tumble of limbs, James tossed Lily off of him and jumped out the carriage door, breathing in the crisp autumn air gratefully. The chill hit him like a slap in the face, but it helped him think. It had stopped raining a while ago and the grounds were wet; the sun was barely visible in the west, its last glimmering rim disappearing behind the distant mountains. James' head cleared and he took stock of their surroundings, relieved no one was in sight.

Lily scrambled out of the carriage after him, stumbling over her robe. She caught his arm.

"James," she cried imploringly, "tell me you love me."

He looked at her, trying to ignore her words. Merlin! he thought, taking in her appearance. He tried get a few more buttons of her blouse done up but her hand batted his away. Hoping no one would notice their disheveled looks, he pulled her robe around her instead.

"James," she pleaded.

He grabbed her arm and headed off toward the castle. Please let him be in his office, James thought desperately, shuffling Lily in front of him. With the sun having set the night was approaching quickly. He needed to get her into the castle, now, before it got any worse. James didn't know what he'd do if he was wrong . . . really, what else could it be? . . .

Halfway through the east courtyard, lost in thought, James stumbled and an arm swung him around to land heavily against a wall. He looked up to see an irate Lily Evans holding him in place, her robe unwrapping to reveal her half-dressed body.

"Tell me you love me," she whispered. James, still slightly stunned by the force at which she'd slammed him into the wall, didn't think of pushing her away. He was much too startled by the look on her face. It was feral, dangerous. "I know you do. I saw it in your eyes in the carriage." She licked her dry lips, her eyes roving wildly over his face, searching for something. "How could you kiss me like that and not love me?" She seemed to be almost talking to herself as much as to him. Stepping closer, her face was inches from his. James was hypnotized by the look in her eyes.

Lily leaned in, her mouth crushing his, her tongue caressing, making him hot. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her body pressed against his urgently, wanting more.

James turned his head away after a moment, panting. They couldn't, he thought vaguely. They couldn't do this. He needed to get her up to Slughorn's office. She doesn't know what she's doing, he reminded himself as one of her hands ran down his body, making him shiver.

"James," she purred. "Take me to your room." Her hand had found what she'd been looking for, and she stroked his half-hard cock through his trousers. James let out a desperate hiss, desire pooling once again in his stomach, his erection swelling with need, springing to life easily. He tried to control himself but his hips acted of their own accord and soon he was grinding himself against her hand, pleasure clouding his mind. Lily was touching him and he couldn't not respond.

"I know you want me. I can feel you." Lily rubbed him harder and he let out a groan. "Oh, please take me to your room—I ache for you." She captured one of his hands and brought it down to the place she meant: between her thighs.

When James felt her hot, wet knickers against his fingers—wet for him! a lust-ridden voice in his head reminded thickly—he knew he had to stop. He knew he had to stop before someone saw them. Had to stop before he ended up switching their positions and pressed _her_ body up against the wall; pressed himself against her, shoving her skirt up and her knickers down and doing just what she wanted. Had to stop before he came right there in the courtyard. Had to stop because he knew what they were doing wasn't right; she didn't really mean it.

She didn't really want him.

With that thought ringing in his ears, James grasped both of Lily's hands in his and shoved away from the wall, dragging her behind him, more determined than ever to make it Slughorn's.

"Are we going to your room?" Lily asked excitedly, clutching at his arm, her robe once again trailing on the ground.

"Yes," James let out stiffly. "Alright."

This seemed to mollify Lily, at least partially. She followed him calmly enough into the castle and past the Great Hall, up the staircases, darting through corridors in effort not to be seen. James didn't know what he'd say if someone saw them—hell, he didn't know what he'd say when he finally found Slughorn, but he had to try.

Finally—finally!—they made it to the second floor, thankfully with no one spying them on the way up (although, for one brief second James had sworn he'd seen Dumbledore peering at them from around a corner). Instead of continuing up the staircases, James set off down a corridor, passed the bathrooms, and eventually ended up standing in front of Slughorn's Office.

Steeling himself for embarrassment beyond anything he thought he'd ever face, and trying to ignore the way Lily was tugging on his arm, James took a deep breathe and knocked on the door.

After a few moments (in which Lily finally came out of her dreamy musings about the boy next to her and recognized where they were) the door opened.

Slughorn beamed at them, his enormous mustache bristling with glee.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter!" he started, before James could get a word out. "So Lily finally said yes to you, did she? Miss Evans, you disappoint me, truly. Not that it has anything to do with you, James, my boy, don't misunderstand me; it's only I put down ten galleons on this Christmas, and now I'll have to pay up to those cheeky friends of yours—"

James barely heard what Slughorn was saying, he was too busy hauling Lily into the room. Slughorn turned around to the table, obviously in the middle of making tea. He was wearing one of his emerald green smoking jackets.

"Why are we here?" Lily said loudly to James, peering around the room. "I thought we were going to your room. There isn't a Slug Club meeting or something?"

"No," James answered quietly, trying to shush her as Slughorn bumbled around the table, still talking, oblivious to their conversation. "I just—I just need to pick up something for class—"

"You're thinking of class at a time like this?" Lily exclaimed angrily. "Let's go!" She tried pulling him back to the door but James caught her by the waist and pulled her to his side.

"It'll only be a minute," he said haltingly through gritted teeth as she struggled against him.

"Let's go to your room," she insisted, drawing a hand across his chest. "I want you," she whispered.

"—you can imagine my surprise! But then again, I knew you'd persuade her, James, I knew it! Lily, you certainly took your time but, then again, I always say that—"

"Professor?" James panted, as Lily wriggled in his arms.

Slughorn sent a glance their way, still talking, and then did a double take. His eyes bugged out as he looked over them from head to toe, his mouth falling open in astonishment. James felt his face burn with embarrassment. He could imagine what Slughorn was seeing. The dirty robe that trailed from Lily's arm. Lily's mussed hair and wild eyes. Her flushed cheeks and swollen lips; her gaping, half-buttoned blouse that barely covered anything. Slughorn could see the way her socks were uneven on her legs and the way her skirt was bunched up, revealing too much of her slim, pale thighs. And James' own disheveled hair and askew glasses, which barely balanced on his nose. His unbuttoned shirt and kiss-ravaged neck. And Slughorn could see that Lily was now straddling one of James' legs, having captured it between her own, and was leaning against him, her arms slung about his neck, purring into his ear.

"I th—I think she's swallowed a love potion, professor," James said hoarsely.

Slughorn blinked at him and looked at Lily again. "Yes, yes, well then . . ." He blinked twice. "Oh my."

"By accident," James said quickly. He didn't miss how Slughorn's eyes caught Lily nuzzling his neck. Just what he needed, someone to think he'd done this himself, as some stupid Marauder's trick.

"I wasn't sure if the hospital wing would . . . well . . . fix her." James' face still burned. "I thought you'd be the best person—I mean, the one who could . . ."

Slughorn nodded, a bewildered look still on his face. "Yes, yes, you thought right," he said. But he didn't move.

James tried to ignore the way Lily was rubbing herself against him, her hips moving rhythmically. He tried to ignore the way she let out breathy moans and whispered things—naughty things—things that no one would ever say in front of a teacher, things that made James' heart race—into his ear.

"Professor?" James called out in a strangled voice, calling Slughorn's attention back to himself. "Do you have anything to help her?"

Slughorn seemed to awaken from his stupor. "Oh my. Yes, yes . . ." he shuffled off to a cupboard, mumbling to himself about antidotes. "I don't have much on hand, you know. One doesn't see love potions every day . . ."

"James," Lily was whispering. "You take off your pants and I'll take off my skirt and we'll do what we were made for." She panted against him. "I want you so badly. I feel like I'm burning up. My skin is on fire. My heart is on fire. I want to feel you hard and long inside me, pounding me against a bed. I know how big you are, I felt your hot cock before. I want you. I'm so wet for you. My knickers are soaked with wanting you. Do you remember how wet I was? Wet for you, James. Oh James! I want to move with you and taste you and taste myself on you. I want . . ."

Slughorn heard none of this as he carefully mixed ingredients together. To think, James and Lily were together—but only because of a love potion! He wondered if that meant his bet for Christmas was still good . . . after all, this couldn't qualify as a true date if one of them was under the influence of a love potion . . . He turned back to the two students, only to find James and Lily in a passionate liplock. Lily's hands were buried in James' hair and she moaned as she pushed her tongue into his mouth. On a second look, however, one could see how James was struggling to push away the crazed girl in his arms.

James eventually succeeded, gasping and holding Lily at arm's length. Any effects of the kiss were lost when he caught Slughorn staring at them, a goblet in his hand giving off clouds of shimmering violet vapor.

"Lily, stop," James said, trying to keep her away as she fought to get closer.

"I can't stop!" she moaned, catching one of his hands in hers and raising it to her mouth for a kiss. However, this tactic did not elicit the same reaction from him as it had the first time. James merely looked at Slughorn pleadingly.

"I love you!" Lily sobbed, longing for James to take her in his arms like he had in the carriage. Why didn't he? What was she doing wrong? She clasped his hand against her heart. "Don't you feel it?" she asked, unaware of how wild she looked, pressing his hand against her chest wantonly. "My heart is bleeding!" Tears were running down her face now. "I love you so much! Why don't you love me?!"

James didn't know what to do. He'd never seen Lily act like this. She'd never been unreasonable or wild before. She'd never cried in his presence. And she certainly had never gotten upset when he didn't say 'I love you'—which, of course, he'd never been stupid enough to say.

He knew it was the effects of the potion, he knew it wasn't the real Lily, but his heart melted just the same. He couldn't bear being the cause of her problems. He couldn't bear being the reason she cried in a teacher's office.

"Shh," he said gently, drawing her into his embrace. She buried her face in his chest and let out the torrent of tears that had welled up inside. He slowly rubbed her back and looked over her shoulder at Professor Slughorn.

Slughorn still looked shocked at the scene in front of him.

"That must have been a very strong love potion," Slughorn said after a moment, watching Lily. "Old or unreliable . . . first sight . . ." he murmured to himself. He looked at James inquiringly. "Do you know how she . . . ?"

James thought a moment. "I think . . . Alice said something about a box of Chocolate Cauldrons at breakfast. With firewhiskey filling. I think she suspected, but didn't know what—" he faltered, looking down at Lily as she hiccupped in his arms, "what made Lily act like this. So . . . strange . . ." He sighed.

Slughorn peered at him. "At breakfast, you say? Do you mean to tell me that Lily has been under the influence of a love potion since breakfast?"

James nodded, shamefaced. It was nearly eight now. He had been so stupid! He should have realized . . . Lily would never have said yes to him if she'd been in her right mind.

Gesturing to the goblet Slughorn had in hand, he asked, "Is that the antidote?"

Slughorn nodded, though James could make out his thinly veiled credulity over Lily having taken the potion so long ago and no one thinking anything was wrong until now.

Gently drawing back from Lily, James took the goblet from Slughorn and offered it to her. "Here, Lily."

Lily gazed at him through starry, wet lashes, ignoring the cup. "Are we going to your room now?" she asked hopefully, desperately, clinging to him.

"Just drink this," James said, feeling a pang at her words.

Her eyes centered on the goblet, apparently finding it difficult to focus on anything but James. "What is it?"

"It—" James looked at Slughorn.

"It will make you feel better," the professor supplied.

Lily didn't move.

"Just drink it, Lily," James urged.

She looked at him, eyes wide and as deep as the green sea. "Are you sure you want me to?"

James hesitated. A niggling of doubt squirmed in his stomach. Why had she asked him that? But, slowly, his gaze not leaving hers, he nodded. "Yes, I do."

She lifted the cup to her lips, eyes still locked on James, and drank.

Slughorn motioned for James to step away from her.

Lily felt dazed, strange. At first nothing seemed to be different. But slowly a churning started in her stomach and made her bend over, clutching her middle. Her face drained of color and a cold sweat broke out on her brow. Her head was full of bright lights that got brighter and brighter; too bright. A cool, sickly feeling spread from her middle, sweeping through her from the top of her messy-haired head to the tips of her scuffed black shoes. That precious, golden, glorious bubbly feeling was deflating, leaving her all alone. No, she thought desperately, don't go! She tried to fight it, to hold on to the happiness, the glow. But nothing worked.

It was gone.

Legs shaking, she opened her eyes, unaware that she'd closed them in the first place. The only thing she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. James' face swam before her eyes and she was aware of a harsh panting noise. It was only when a wrenching pain ripped into her side and her breath caught that she realized she'd been making that noise. Swaying dizzily, Lily grabbed the edge of the nearest solid object—which happened to be a large, empty cauldron—her head spinning, her side spasmming in pain.

"Wh—What happened?" she asked thickly, clutching her side with one hand.

"Lily?" a voice said cautiously.

"I . . . I . . ." Lily blinked, trying to get the blurriness to clear.

"She doesn't look too good," another voice said.

Another wrenching pain dug through her, only this time higher than her side . . . she wondered what it was . . . and then she knew: her heart. All at once her stomach jumped and she closed her eyes again as the nausea swept over her.

"Oh," she moaned painfully, "I—I don't feel . . ."

And with that Lily leaned over the cauldron, and retched for all she was worth.

"Lily!" James called, hurrying to her side. He pulled her hair back from her face as she retched again.

"That was some strong stuff she had," Slughorn said, leaning wearily against the table. "Very poorly mixed, didn't set for long enough . . . and mixed with firewhiskey . . . you can always tell with the antidote . . ." He watched thoughtfully as James helped Lily wipe her mouth on a handkerchief. "She'll be alright," he said.

Lily leaned her forehead against the cold, smooth metal of the cauldron, trying to fight the queasiness in her stomach. She felt strange, almost . . . bereft. As if she had lost something. Her head started to clear a little and she took deep, slow breaths. Her chest ached. Her heart ached . . . her heart . . .

Lily let out a sharp gasp, standing up quickly. James, thinking she needed the cauldron again, moved to help her. He touched her shoulder, ready to do whatever she needed, but Lily seized his arm desperately, letting out a wail.

"Oh!" she cried. "I feel . . . I feel . . ." She felt torn inside. Wounded. Like someone had given her something she hadn't known she was missing, something that fit her perfectly, and then cruelly yanked it away. She felt empty.

James, taking her in his arms, tried unsuccessfully to calm her wretched sobs. She railed against him, twisting and turning, tears pouring down her face.

"It hurts! It hurts!" she wailed. And then she fainted, James' arms catching her before she hit the floor.

"Professor," James said, turning to Slughorn. "What—is she—are you sure you gave her the right—?"

Slughorn nodded tiredly. "That was the right antidote. It was just a strong love potion, that's all. _Diligo Primoris_: Love At First Sight, if I'm not mistaken. It can have very strong side-effects if not brewed correctly. Don't worry, Lily will feel more like herself in the morning." He peered anxiously at Lily's pale, blank face. "I trust you'll take care of her, Mr. Potter?"

"Shouldn't we take her to the hospital wing, Professor?"

"They can't do anything we haven't already done," Slughorn replied. He waved a hand at the cauldron Lily had used. "I'll clean up."

"Thank you, sir," James answered solemnly. He carefully hefted Lily into his arms more securely and turned toward the door. Turning the knob, he paused.

"Professor? I . . . well . . . thank you," James repeated, lamely.

Slughorn nodded. "You'd better put her to bed."

James left Slughorn's office and trudged up the rest of the stairs to the fourth floor, where the Head Boy and Girl's dormitory was located, around the corner from the prefect's bathroom and two corridors down from the library.

Whispering the password ("Demiguise"), James entered the Head Common Room and walked across it to the door that led to Lily's room. As he stepped through, Lily squirmed in his arms, half-awake, mumbling incoherently. He laid her on the bed and was undoing her shoes when she tried to sit up, still clutching at her chest as if in pain. James put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back onto the mattress.

"Shh," he said. "You need to sleep."

Lily grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. "I feel . . ." Tears threatened again.

"Shh," he soothed, putting an arm around her. "It's okay. You'll be okay."

"Don't leave me, too," Lily said brokenly, turning into his embrace.

"I won't." James lightly kissed her forehead. "I won't."

Lily soon slept, her head on his chest, breathing deeply. James couldn't bring himself to leave her, and so he stayed like he'd promised. It was a long time before he fell asleep.

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Author's Note:

You might have noticed that Lily's reaction to the love potion antidote was stronger—much stronger—than Ron's reaction in HBP. This is due to the fact that I made up a different sort of love potion. In HBP the one Romilda Vane makes enchants the drinker into a state of "love" with the maker—Romilda specifically. The one Lily consumed in his fic is of different ilk: Love At First Sight, a finicky potion, one that is very strong if brewed poorly. And remember, Ron was given his antidote right away; poor Lily was enchanted all day! She fell deeper and deeper in love with James every time she looked at him! So obviously the effects of dissolving her "love" for him had more consequences . . .

Another thing: I wasn't quite sure where to put Slughorn's office. I mean, he is the Potions Master, and one would assume that, like Snape, he'd use the office right next door to the Potions room. But then again, in HBP, Snape teaches DADA and Slughorn teaches Potions and they don't switch offices; Slughorn has the vacant DADA teacher's office on the second floor. And, in HBP, when Harry and Dumbledore look at Slughorn's "Sluggish Memory", Harry recognizes the room they are in as Slughorn's office. Now, I'm not sure if that's meant as just belonging to Slughorn or if he used the office on the second floor fifty years ago when he taught Voldemort, but I decided to make him have the same office for Harry's parents that he has in HBP for Harry; that is, the office on the second floor. It was also more interesting for James and Lily to go running around upstairs trying not to be caught, than down in those cold, cheerless, dirty dungeons, don't you think? 

Also, I must say that I don't really have any idea where the Head Boy and Girl's dormitory is; or even if there is one. However, I like the idea of James and Lily having to put up with each other in such close quarters in their seventh year, so . . . humor me.


	5. Aftereffects

Love Cauldrons – Chapter Five – Aftereffects

A/N: Wow. Yeah. Sorry I haven't updated in forever. I can't believe it's almost been a year. Time really flies by. Anyway . . .

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The first thought that entered Lily's mind was that her body must have been trampled by a raging Hippogriff, it hurt so badly.

Head pounding voraciously, Lily concentrated on breathing deeply. Her mouth tasted terrible and her limbs felt like leaden weights. Eyes still closed, she tried to fight down the nausea rising in her stomach. She felt terrible, sore and bruised, her chest specifically. Had she been hit by a stray Bludger yesterday? What had she been doing on the Quidditch pitch?

Her stomach rolled unpleasantly and Lily winced. Maybe something she'd eaten hadn't agreed with her.

Where was she? What time was it?

Groggily opening her eyes (which took more effort than she had expected), Lily squinted at her surroundings, taking in the nightstand next to the bed, the purple and silver wall paper and the dark oak wardrobe across the room. Her own room then, the Head Girl's dormitory.

But if she was in her own bed, why did it feel like she'd slept on a pile of rocks the night before?

Letting out a moan, Lily shifted, stretching her arms over her head. As she did, she glimpsed a dark something out of the corner of her eye; a dark something lying on a pillow in her bed.

A dark something that was actually a head of hair; a head of hair belonging to one James Potter.

James Potter.

Lily gaped at him.

Potter? In her bed? With her in it _at the same time?_

It was something Lily had never expected to see, so naturally she was quite shocked.

He was sprawled halfway across her bed on his side, facing her. His hair was as mussed and wild-looking as ever. His glasses hung on his face, an inch from slipping off his nose. Blank and peaceful in sleep, his face still showed signs of recent strain, as if he hadn't rested much, or had been worrying about something before drifting off. Letting out a soft snore, James shifted closer and tightened his arm around her—which Lily only just realized had been around her waist the entire time.

How had he . . . Why were they . . .

Spotting a dark, suspicious-looking bruise on James' neck, it took a moment for Lily to realize what it was: a love bite, a hickey.

Sweet Merlin, she thought, staring at that small testament to their activities, what had she done?

Realization swept over her in a great wave even as she remembered how it had felt to give him that love-bite, how his neck had tasted: salty and warm and good, and how he had responded, moaning in her ear with pleasure. Shock and embarrassment caused the queasiness in her stomach to double and sheer panic to bloom in her chest.

Lily stared at James, trying to make the vision of events go away, but no matter how hard she tried, they only grew clearer and clearer:

Telling him she'd go out with him: the 'yes' echoed in her mind, only causing the pounding of her head to intensify. Holding his hand. Being seen in Hogsmeade with him. Buying candy. Yelling at Alice. Snogging in the carriage on the ride home . . . doing more than snogging . . . touching him like that . . . letting him—

Lily pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling tears well up in her throat. Why had she acted that way? What had come over her? She'd never done anything like that before. She'd never dreamed of carrying on so with James Potter. But the memory of touching him, of whispering things in his ear, of kissing him, was strong, and, amazingly, pleasant.

Pleasant?! He was James Potter! The most annoying, smarmy, idiotic git she knew! What had she been thinking?

Another memory stole over her, one of gazing deeply into his eyes, feeling her heart expand as he smiled, beating in time with his. Her heart . . . She had felt bubbly and wonderful, as if the whole world was singing. She had been in love.

In love with James Potter.

Lily remembered glancing at him across the Great Hall, down at the other end of the Gryffindor table, and not being able to tear her gaze away. She'd been shocked at how handsome he'd been; but the shock had worn off and she'd gotten to thinking that she'd always liked him, always felt that way; it was only now that she was finally admitting it to herself. It was as though a film had been dropped from before her eyes and she could see clearly for the first time, as if the world was bathed in a new light, brighter and prettier and truer. She remembered the way her heart had caught when their eyes had locked, remembered how she'd been at a loss for words half the time he talked to her because she was too busy loving him to think straight. She remembered how they'd flirted in Honeydukes and how he'd bought her candy and smiled so brilliantly at her that her legs had turned to marshmallow. She remembered the feel of his hand in hers, and how it had felt when he'd kissed her, how her body had sung with pleasure when he touched her.

Love . . . it was gone. Her chest was empty. She wasn't bubbly, she was flat. She could feel the echo of it distantly, like a dream.

Letting out a soft noise, be it whimper or groan, Lily sat up, shifting to lean against the headboard. Sensing her move positions, James was startled out of sleep. Blinking rapidly, he looked to where Lily had been laying, and seeing her legs under the covers, moved his eyes up to her face.

They stared at each other. James' face was white, and he looked like he was about to say something—though he swallowed the words at the last moment. Lily knew she was turning crimson with embarrassment, but she couldn't stop herself from blushing. She felt the tears begin to burn behind her eyes, felt the lump form in her throat. How could he look at her after the way she'd acted? What was he thinking?

How had this happened?

James quickly sat up, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. He looked worried.

"Lily?" he asked. "Are—are you okay?"

Lily realized she was shaking. She couldn't calm down, not with all the thoughts and memories of the day before running through her mind.

She shook her head, trembling. "How—what happened?" She felt a tear run down her face. "Why did I—"

She couldn't continue. The dam burst and the tears poured out, unstoppable. Lily let out a sob, aware of James staring at her, but unable to care enough to stop. He tried to offer her some comfort, placing his hand on her arm, but she shook him off. Grabbing a pillow she pressed her face against it to muffle her embarrassed, panicked sobs. James sat next to her, at a loss for what to do, watching her cry, unable to help.

After a moment he inched closer. "Lily," he said softly.

"How did this happen?" she wailed. Oh, Merlin! He was staring at her! Why didn't he leave her alone? Was he enjoying this? How could she have _done _those things? "What made me act so—so—"

"A love potion," James replied.

Lily lifted her head from the pillow, staring at him. Of all the answers her panicked mind had run through, she hadn't thought of that one. It was the least expected—the most sensible. It certainly would explain a lot.

Lily tried to wipe her face on the pillow. "A love potion?" she squeaked. Was that what it had been? The bubbly feeling? The obsession with James? The reason she'd acted so strangely? "How could I have taken a love potion?" she cried. "I barely ate anything yesterday—nothing strange—" she stopped.

Realization dawned. "The Chocolate Cauldrons?" she asked softly.

James nodded, hoping all her crying was done. "That's what Alice thought. In Honeydukes she said something . . . and I remembered later, in the carriage . . ." He trailed off in embarrassment and both avoided the other's gaze as they recalled what had occurred in the carriage during the ride from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts.

James cleared his throat after a strained moment. "Yeah, so, I took you to Slughorn and he mixed up an antidote for you pretty quickly. And then he said you should sleep, so . . ." James shrugged, his eyes fixed on his hands, which were currently preoccupied with picking at her quilt on the bed.

Lily couldn't believe it. The Chocolate Cauldrons had been tampered with—or, most likely, the whole 'thousandth-customer-on-June-10th' thing had all been a lie (come to think of it, Lily couldn't say for certain when the last Hogsmeade trip had been last year . . . and she normally didn't even go into Honeydukes—which was pretty stupid on her part for not spotting that something was wrong from the outset).

So, someone had deliberately sent her candy laced with love potion.

"What kind of love potion was it?" Lily asked softly.

James kept his eyes averted as he answered. "Slughorn thought it was Love at First Sight."

Lily gaped. "_Diligo Primoris_? But, that's an incredibly complex potion! Why would anyone ever want to send one to me?"

There was an awkward pause as both grew suddenly conscious of the fact that for the results to appear as they had, Lily would have had to take the Love at First Sight potion while looking at James. Though why she had been looking at James in the first place . . .

"Dunno," James murmured after a long moment. "Slughorn said it was brewed badly, and that's why the side effects were so . . . bad."

"I can't believe I was under a love potion for a whole day and no one figured it out!" Lily fumed. "Someone should have noticed I was acting strangely! I'd never act like that in a million years! I mean, why would I ever—" she broke off suddenly, the words sticking in her throat and a bright blush lighting her cheeks. She looked quickly at James.

Still preoccupied with the quilt, James appeared calm, seemingly not to have heard her comment, if a little mechanical. "Well," he said slowly, "I guess we eventually figured out something wasn't right." Lily's blush grew. "And Alice was suspicious from the start. From when you even said 'yes' in the first place—"

"Oh!" Lily smacked herself in the forehead with her palm, finally drawing James' attention from the quilt. "Alice! In Honeydukes!" The words replayed themselves in Lily's mind, making her stomach churn at how awful she'd acted. _James and I are having a lovely date and you're just trying to ruin it. . . . Maybe I don't need you to tell me what to do! Maybe you should just sod off because it isn't any of your damn business! _Lily felt horrible. "I can't believe what I said to her!"

She felt James' hand on her arm. "Don't," he chided gently. "She'll understand. You were under a love potion, for Merlin's sake. It'll be okay."

"Okay?" Lily gasped, wrenching her arm from under his hand. She tried to ignore how wounded he looked because she'd stopped the contact. "Okay!? How can it be okay? I've been the worst friend ever—she was just trying to help me! And I blew her off! For what? For a freaking love potion!" Lily felt her eyes sting with tears again. "How can any of this be okay? Someone slipped me a love potion and I acted like a fool all day! I followed you around like a lovesick puppy, and people saw us, and I yelled at Alice, and on the way back, in the carriage—" Lily broke off on a sob, "How can you even look at me?" Clutching her arms to her abdomen she nearly leapt from the bed and went over to stand by the window.

Lily shut her eyes hard in effort to stop the second torrent of tears. She gripped the windowsill firmly and finally opened her eyes and stared blindly outside, trying to breathe deeply, trying to not embarrass herself any further in front of James—though that would be a feat after yesterday.

Lily heard the bed shift under James' weight and the sound of him clearing his throat.

"I . . . I should have known from the beginning," he said, so softly she could barely hear. "I feel so stupid. It's obvious something was wrong right off. It's _my_ fault we didn't fix you right away; why we didn't have Slughorn look at you. I didn't think—I just wanted to believe that you could . . ." he trailed off and took a breath. Lily turned her head slightly and looked at him. James stared off at nothing, a frown marring his handsome face as he ran a hand through his ruffled hair. "Alice was right to be suspicious from the beginning," he continued. "I thought I knew you, but," he gave a harsh little laugh, "I guess I was wrong. Alice is the one who really knows you. She knew you'd never act like that—that you'd never say yes. Not in reality."

James turned his glum face to hers and their gazes locked for a few moments. His lingering disappointment was almost palpable, but somehow Lily didn't begrudge him of it. She understood that his dreams had been fulfilled in one word and bitterly revoked after a few hours.

Shifting again, he moved to the edge of the bed, face devoid of any dram of jollity or mischief; for once, James Potter was completely serious.

"I want you to know, in the carriage . . . I—I was surprised." He wet his lips nervously. His voice was strained, hoarse. "When you kissed me, I didn't think anything was wrong because . . ." he struggled for words, ". . . because it's something you do on a first date. But, after," he blushed, but his eyes didn't leave hers, "after, when—when we were . . . I knew you'd never act like that. Not on a first date." James shrugged, a cynical look entering his eyes, something she'd never seen before. "Hell, if you ever did agree to go out with me, I'd probably never even get to kiss you goodnight." He sighed, serious once more. "I just want you to know that I'm sorry for not figuring it out sooner. And that I don't blame you for anything—I know it was the love potion, not you."

Lily couldn't tear her eyes from him. He didn't blame her? He thought it was _his_ fault?

Could he be any nicer?

Nice wasn't usually a word Lily associated with James Potter, but she couldn't deny it—he was being nice. Nice and sincere and noble and apologetic. Apologetic? Why was he apologizing? It wasn't his fault for not noticing she was under the influence of a strange love potion—hell, he'd been so disbelieving at first the shock must have blocked half his brain from functioning. The one girl he'd been going after for four years had finally said yes to him—of course he'd take her answer at face value and not question it for fear she'd change her mind. And after they'd gotten to Hogsmeade, and he'd recovered a little, he had been happy and eager to show her around and buy her sweets and hold her hand. Lily couldn't help but remember how he'd teased her about the exploding bonbons. And how he'd brought her with him to buy a tie for his father's birthday. And how he'd gotten them butterbeers for the ride home because it was cold and rainy outside. He'd been on a date.

If anything, it was her fault for eating candy from an anonymous person in the first place, no matter what the card had claimed. She was eighteen for Merlin's sake, she should have known better.

All she could do now was try not to think about what had happened in the carriage (though, truth to tell, Lily was finding it much more difficult than she'd imagined, trying to forget how James had tasted, how he'd moaned when she tugged at his hair, how wonderful and hot his body had felt pressed close to hers, or how good and right it had felt when his fingers had—er . . . yeah . . .).

All she could do now was wonder who had sent her those Chocolate Cauldrons in the first place. It was hard to imagine who would want to do something so malicious, but Lily knew she'd been the intended target, since the card had read "Congratulations Lily!" at the end.

Going over the list of possibilities in her head, Lily didn't know what to think.

Jordan Bath and she had fought over grades for years; he was the type of Ravenclaw who could have also belonged to Slytherin, given his ruthless ambition—but Lily doubted he would have resorted to a love potion in order to further his pursuits of being the top student in their year.

She had heard that James and his ex-girlfriend had had a nasty break-up—but again, Lily didn't think Nina Lynch would consider Lily a threat, and even if she did, slipping Lily a love potion didn't accomplish anything, especially given who she'd been looking at when first eating the Chocolate Cauldrons . . . ironic really, if Nina actually had sent the chocolates . . .

As for Severus . . . Lily knew that their history was complicated. She knew he'd wanted more than friendship with her, but she couldn't accept his alliances, friends, and their views on Muggleborns. Since their falling out in fifth year . . . their relationship had never been the same. And Lily seriously doubted that Severus Snape would slip her a love potion. They both were the best potion students of their year, so it was certainly possible—but if he had given her the chocolates, why choose Love At First Sight? It would have to be perfectly orchestrated in order for the potion-maker to use that potion on one particular person and hope for "love" to occur between the two. If Sev wanted her to fall in love with him via potion, why not choose _Amortentia_ instead? And anyway, hadn't James mentioned something that Slughorn had said, something about how the potion hadn't been brewed properly? If the potion had been prepared ineptly then Lily seriously doubted that the perpetrator could be Severus. He'd want to do it right even if it was for revenge or something, just to prove how good he was. The logic just didn't add up; and if Sev was anything, he was logical.

The only other possibility was the Marauders. Their list of misdemeanors and pranks knew no bounds. From dungbombs, enchanted mistletoe, and three days of porridge for every meal to curfew breaks, flying brooms in the school, and the ceiling not only showing the rain but delivering it as well, there was nothing most students wouldn't put past them. A love potion though . . . Lily didn't see any real motive, unless one counted their loyalty to James; though, from what she could remember at breakfast, they'd been just as stupefied as James when she'd said yes.

But just to be sure . . .

Lily walked back over to the bed and sat down next to James. After a moment she spoke.

"This wasn't all a prank, was it?" she asked wearily. "This wasn't something you cooked up with your friends? Or something your friends tried to pull over on you?"

James appeared to seriously mull over her words, then shook his head. "No. I don't think it was them. Peter is the only decent one at Potions, and he'd never have the brains to think up something like this. Anyway, they'd never pull a prank without me." He suddenly turned to her in earnest. "And you have to believe it wasn't me. I know I've done stupid things in the past, but I swear, Lily. I would never do something like this, especially to you. You have to believe me." He broke off.

Lily caught his gaze and touched his arm. "I know," she said. His relief was obvious. A look passed between them then, something deep and personal. A look that understood what had happened in the carriage and forgave all and was formed of a new friendship and trust. A look of perfect understanding.

Lily leaned towards him slightly. "But if it wasn't the Marauders, then who?"

James shook his head honestly. "I don't know."

Suddenly conscious of the way her hand had lingered on his arm, and the way James was looking at her, and just how close they were sitting, something that eerily reminded her of yesterday in the carriage, Lily stood up, trying to stop the blush that threatened to start burning.

"Um . . . well, I'd better get dressed and go find Alice," she said, heading toward the bathroom.

James stood up, too, nodding. He was nearly at the door when he turned and said, "Uh, Lily?"

"Yeah?"

"We—we never planned for the prefects' meeting today."

Lily stared at him. "Shit," she said.

James grinned rather in spite of himself. "'S okay, I can prepare a little for it this morning. You have stuff to do."

"James," Lily protested, struck once again by how nice he was being, "you don't need to, really. I can—"

"No," he said. "I will, really. That's what a Head Boy is for, after all: to take care of the Head Girl when she needs taking care of."

He blushed a little at her stare.

"And to plan meetings when she doesn't have time to," he added. "Really, it's fine. See you this afternoon?"

Lily smiled for the first time that day. "Yeah, see you then."


End file.
